


Klaus Is Dead.

by ElvaDeath



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 173rd Airborne Brigade (Umbrella Academy), Angst, Immortal Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & David "Dave" Katz During Vietnam, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus dies instead of Dave, POV David "Dave" Katz, Vietnam, no beta we die like ben, poor Dave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27635414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvaDeath/pseuds/ElvaDeath
Summary: “You have to leave him, he’s not gonna make it! Come on!”“Klaus! No- please, please, Klaus!”“Katz! We gotta- shit, man, stop! I’ll carry you out myself if you don’t get your ass moving!”“No! Klaus! Klaus! I love you!”Klaus doesn’t respond.- E.D.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Comments: 18
Kudos: 180





	Klaus Is Dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been dying to write something from this show... then I found this hidden away in one of my many notes and decided to finish it.
> 
> Had a bit of fun with the slang, and maybe a bit too much fun with the angst, but here it is.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> \- E.D.

“Klaus- Klaus please-“

“Retreat! Everyone retreat!”

“I need a medic! Medic! Klaus, Klaus, stay with me-“

“We’ve gotta go, Katz! Come on!”

“No, no no no, please, God, Klaus, look at me-“

“You have to leave him, he’s not gonna make it! Come on!”

“Klaus! No- please, please, Klaus!”

“Katz! We gotta- shit, man, stop! I’ll carry you out myself if you don’t get your ass moving!”

“No! Klaus! Klaus! I love you!”

Klaus didn’t respond.

. . .

Dave can’t stop staring at his hands. Blood is so much darker than the bright red he’d imagined back home. His dad had once cut his finger off in an accident, and he’d imagined the scarlet fountain, staring at the bandaged hand. In reality, when someone’s limb is blown apart, it looks nothing like that clean cut in his mind. It’s messy, blood and bone and tissue moulding together and sticking out in shards, only made worse by the screaming.

The first time Dave had seen a dead body, green as he was, he’d almost cried in the horror of it. He’d been shaken up, waking up sweating and shivering from nightmares, the dead eyes and carnage constantly hovering in his mind. Later on, he learnt he was one of the lucky ones. For some people, the first dead body they saw was their own. Most new recruits die in the first month, and every time is more painful than the last. Dave eventually learnt not to get too attached, even when his morality screamed at the injustice of sending these boys, barely men, out to be cannon fodder. 

Klaus was always strangely unbothered by it all. Even when he flinched at empty air and skipped steps to avoid shadows, he could see a man blown apart by a mine and barely bat an eyelid. Dave didn’t understand, at first. None of the men did. Klaus was the human enigma of their squad, dancing around death with hardly any knowledge of how to even hold his gun. He consumed more drugs and alcohol than the entire squad combined, and yet he was the skinniest guy there. He’d laugh and skip about, panty waisted, and Dave used to envy his blatant flaunting of his sexuality. Klaus could drape himself over their laps, rip the sleeves from his uniform for ‘fashion’, steal eyeliner from the girls in the towns they went through, and yet any homophobic comment thrown his way was received with a mountain of intimidating muscle from the other older guys. They were a family, and family looked after their own. Besides, most of them were too busy trying not to die to care who was shagging who.

Perhaps Dave should have been more focused on that too.

Then he learnt about the ghosts, after one particularly bad ambush. They’d never seen the Charlies coming. By the time the damn VC had disappeared into the trees again, they were five men down and Klaus had clamped his hands over his ears, hissing at nothing. Most of them had just shrugged it off (Klaus being Klaus, you know how he is) and planned to give him extra food later and play his favourite games, but Dave had listened in, and found Klaus was talking to the dead men.

The whole story hadn’t been explained. It was only that Klaus had been taken in by an old rich man who knew he had powers, along with six other siblings, and Klaus had run away after it became too much. It explained why he never talked about family, who he was looking forward to going home to. That night, Klaus has told Dave about his family, about all of the wonderful and terrible things they’d done. Dave didn’t understand how they could have remained a secret, or why he’d never heard of this guy, but Klaus had just giggled and told him to wait twenty years.

He’d expected to get out of this. They were going to finish their service, get a nice cottage in the country with some cats and cool neighbours, and send postcards to the rest of their squad every year. The possibility that it might not happen never occurred to them.

Dave blinks, and watches a single tear drip down onto the red coating his hands. They were so wrong. 

Sergeant Anderson ducks into the tent, face grave. “Katz.”

Dave swallows, looking up from where he’s sitting on his bunk. “Sir.”

“They’re bringing his body in now.” Anderson clasps his hands behind his back. “I’m sorry, Katz.”

“I-“ Dave cuts himself off, a lump in his throat blocking any words. Even if he could speak, what would he say? How could he hope to express the sudden emptiness of his world? Klaus is gone. Klaus is- Klaus is-

“We’ve all agreed you should have his things.” Anderson sighs, gesturing at Klaus’ rumpled bunk, the sheets thrown aside like Klaus will walk in any second and collapse onto them, wrapping them around him like a caterpillar. Dave waits. He doesn’t.

“He had no family listed. Do you know anyone we should send a message to?”

“Reginald Hargreeves.” The name comes slipping out before he can think, mind reeling too much to process his own words. “Sir Reginald Hargreeves. That was his adopted dad.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, ignoring the noise of the rest of the squad outside.

“Katz...” Anderson starts, shifting uncomfortably. Usually Dave would take this as his moment to leave, since Sarge always gets uncomfortable when he’s about to talk emotions. This time, he stays. “We’re all here for you. We know you... cared for Hargreeves. I won’t be a fink if you wanted more time alone. The boys can run their drills.”

“I...” Dave stares at his hands, coated in Klaus’ blood, the blood that poured from his chest as Dave desperately pressed down, yelling, whispering, sobbing to a faithless god. “That would be good.”

Anderson nods awkwardly, and rapidly splits. Dave listens as the Sergeant barks out orders for drills, and the accompanying scuffle to get ready. He imagines that if Klaus were with him, he’d be beaming at the chance for some alone time. Even though they couldn’t do much more than kiss and huddle together on one bunk, it was more than enough.

Dave feels that empty ache inside of him throb, turning the memories sour. They won’t ever do that again. He won’t ever see Klaus’ beautiful smile, or hear his airy laugh. He’s heard the last stupid joke and revelled in the last silent moment of basking in his company. Now, whenever his heart flips, it won’t be because Klaus has flashed him one of those secret winks. Klaus is gone. Klaus isn’t coming back. Klaus is-

Klaus is dead.

Shot in the chest.

Bleeding out in front of him.

Expression dazed.

“Dave...”

Gurgling out around a lungful of blood.

“It’ll be fine, just...”

Explosions shaking the ground under them.

Gunfire echoing.

“Retreat!”

Dave sobbing, screaming for a medic that will never come.

“Wait for me.”

Glassy eyes.

Cold skin.

Blood still pumping, still flowing out, still coating Dave’s hands.

His body left behind, limp and cold and dead.

Dave shakes his head, a mangled noise ripped from his throat as he stands, pacing towards Klaus’ bunk and tearing through the things there. Letters to their future selves (“Oh my god, Dave, I can’t wait to see my face!”), a few spare pieces of clothing (“I know I’d get murdered in my sleep for wearing this skirt, but it’s nice to have the option, right?”), filthy remains of makeup (“Obviously she doesn’t want it since she threw it out, so what’s the harm in using it?”), and that smooth black briefcase Klaus hung onto since he first arrived (“Sensitive documents, Dave dearest! If you opened this briefcase, you would see things that the government today would kill you for!”).

Everyone had teased Klaus for lugging the thing around, scoffing at the mad stories he made up for it. No one had ever seen inside. Dave never actually saw Klaus look inside either.

He reaches for the latches, flicking them open. 

Bright blue light flashes through the tent, and when it is gone, the briefcase and Dave are gone with it.

Outside, a scuffling is followed by the cries of a few soldiers. Shock, fear, delight in their voices, trailing steadily closer.

“He’s in here?! In here, right?!”

“Hargreeves?!”

Klaus bursts through the tent flap, blood coating his skin and clothes, a massive ripped hole in his uniform. He’s alive. Very much so. Oh, and he’s just recently learnt that God hates him and his father committed suicide, but that’s completely irrelevant.

For a moment, he stands in the empty tent, head whipping from side to side.

“Dave?!”

No answer. Klaus pulls back the tent flap, glaring out at all of the soldiers crowding around him, faces pale at a dead man walking.

“Where is he?”

“H-He was in there...” Anderson fumbles over his words.

Suddenly, understanding dawns on Klaus’ face. He slips back inside the tent, trudging heavily to his bed, dread tightening his throat.

There’s his things. There’s his blanket, tossed aside. But no briefcase, and the Dave-shaped print on his bed is lacking a Dave to sit in it.

He really should have hidden that damn thing better.

“Shit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t forget to leave a kudos on the way out! More may come your way as a reward :)


End file.
